Sparring
by Laura Schiller
Summary: Tag to "Displaced". We all know Tom and B'Elanna's argument was about more than a Klingon martial arts program.


Sparring

By Laura Schiller

Based on _Star Trek: Voyager_

Copyright: Paramount

"Hey, B'Elanna, about that _bat'leth_ program … "

"You gotta be kidding me." B'Elanna slumped back into the cushions of her deck chair.

"What?" Tom shrugged and looked at her with confused blue eyes. "I like them. They're great weapons. We have fun sparring together. I don't see why you keep making such a big deal out of this."

"Don't you? Seriously?"

He sighed. "I know. You're conflicted about being Klingon because of your parents. I get that, I do. When I was younger, there were times I seriously considered getting my name legally changed to anything but Paris. But you can't let that ruin something you obviously enjoy. I didn't let my dad's ambitions stop me flying."

She was tempted to snap back at him. If not for her exhaustion and the lingering chill in her bones, she might have. But this place, with its smiling holo-characters, rustling palm trees and shimmering turquoise pool, was just too darn pretty to argue in. Especially after the fact that Tom had just saved her from dying of hypothermia. _On your feet, Torres, that's an order. Keep moving. Or do I have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you?_

It was past time to speak to him like a reasonable adult.

"Look, Tom, we both know that's not all there is to it. You've seen me out of control before. You, me and sharp pointed objects? Not a good idea."

To her momentary fury, he burst out laughing. She waited with clenched teeth until he caught his breath and wiped his eyes. One look at the expression on her face, however, wiped the last traces of his smile right off his face.

"Hold on. You wouldn't seriously … " He mimed a stabbing gesture at his own chest.

He made it sound so impossible. He had no idea how she felt when she was fighting – dangerous, yes, and powerful, but there was a sensual quality to it that frightened her. Having Tom there with her, fighting back to back against a horde of enemies, that daredevil smile, his strength and grace with the unwieldy _bat'leth_ , his scent thick in the air …

"I bit you once, remember?"

The Klingon romance novels she read (in secret, ever since Tom had caught her reading one) claimed that there was nothing sweeter than the taste of a lover's blood. She'd never believed that - until Sakari Prime.

Her stomachs clenched. If he wasn't afraid of her yet, he soon would be.

"Ah. So we _are_ talking about Sakari Prime." He didn't sound afraid, only thoughtful, compassionate, and the tiniest bit proud, as if she'd proven him right.

"B'Elanna." Damn, but she loved the way he tried so hard to say her name right. "I told you then, I'm not afraid of your Klingon side."

"I'm stronger than you," she told him brusquely. "That's a fact."

"Still, I'm not exactly made of glass. You're not gonna break me." The faintest hint of a spark ignited in his eyes. _I dare you to try_ , he seemed to be saying, challenge and seduction in one breath.

 _Maybe not, Tom Paris,_ she almost said, _but what if I take you up on that, and you still end up leaving me?_ Maybe she couldn't break him, but he could easily break her. And he wouldn't even need a _bat'leth_ to do it.

"I'm starting to wonder if you have some kind of Klingon fetish. If it's that you're after, why don't you go write another holodeck program? Make it X-rated this time." She could have bitten her tongue the moment that came out of her mouth, but it was too late.

For a moment, she could have sworn that Tom looked hurt. But a second later, he leaned closer and met her eyes with such uncharacteristic earnestness that she couldn't look away.

"It's worse than that," he said. "I've got a B'Elanna fetish. I might need counselling. I'd go anywhere with you – a Vulcan monastery, a Ferengi dabo hall or, heck, a Y-Class planet if I thought you'd like it. I wrote that program for _you_. Because I wouldn't change a single thing about you, and I just wish you felt the same."

 _Wait. Is it my imagination, or does he actually mean that?_ With his habit of constant low-level irony, it was hard to tell. Could anyone really feel that way about a mess like her?

 _I'd go anywhere with you_ … That was the crazy part. So would she.

"Okay, flyboy. Holodeck Two. The usual time."

"Aye, aye, Lieutenant." He sprang to his feet and held out a hand to her. His over-the-top gallantry made her smile.

"Your balance still needs work."

"I can fly Voyager through an asteroid field, and you complain about my balance?"

She took his hand and pulled, making him trip over his feet and curse. One misstep, and he would have tumbled right into her lap. She smirked.

"See there? You need lessons. Intensive, private lessons."

"Well, in that case, who am I to argue?"


End file.
